As Long As We're Going Down
by Swishy Willow Wand
Summary: "When his eyes land on the lithe District 2 tribute, her eyes are on him too. She doesn't look like she's afraid of fire." The 74th Hunger Games if Katniss was a career, told in 12 parts. AU, major character death.


_Inspired by the song "Dark Doo Wop" by MSMR._

_**Warning: Major character death.**_

* * *

_twelve_

It doesn't bother Peeta that he cried during the reaping until hours later, watching the recap in a train car and sitting uncomfortably close to Leevy that he regrets it — something about watching the stonefaced girl from District 2 volunteer makes his stomach sink with shame. Even on screen, her gray eyes flash with something that both terrifies and pulls him in; he can't help but wonder where on the train tracks that girl is right now, what she's thinking when his red, teary face flashes over the screen.

_eleven_

She is beautiful and golden, dressed as a fierce warrior beside her hulking district partner that she doesn't even spare a glance at. It's not her the world focuses on, though — instead the cameras are transfixed on District 12, for the first time that anyone can remember. Peeta flushes as he catches sight of himself on every screen, his face haloed by bright flames. Beside him Leevy trembles but he manages to beam at the crowd; women scream, roses fall at his feet, and the cameras stay locked on them longer than they should.

When the parade is over, he and Leevy slip out of their chariot. Their team is giddy with happiness, Effie effusively gloating over their appearance; he can't help but look around the training center. This time, when his eyes land on the lithe District 2 tribute, her eyes are on him too.

She doesn't look like she's afraid of fire.

_ten_

On the first morning of training Haymitch instructs them to not reveal their strengths. Which really isn't a difficult task, he thinks bitterly, taking in the wide variety of training stations he has no experience with. Leevy gives him a nervous kind of look as he makes his way to the station where an instructor is going over knots, but she follows him anyway. They don't talk much, both determinedly working the lengths of rope in their hands. He masters the square knot but after five minutes of trying a half hitch he drops it in frustration.

His eyes are drawn across the room to a series of targets set up. The District 2 girl's long dark hair is twined into a braid today, her face set in determination as she strings her bow. She pulls it back effortless; even so far away he can hear the sharp sound of her arrow sinking into the bullseye. She does it again and again and again and all the while he stares in fascination. Her district partner swaggers up to her, looping an arm around her waist, leering. Even from a distance he can see her freeze; she fixes the large boy with a look as sharp as her weapon before turning away from him. Her eyes land on him again and he flushes, embarrassed to be caught staring at her once. He smiles tentatively, surprised to see her smile back, her expression dark. He visibly startles, shifting backwards in his seat, and at his nervousness her smile widens.

He turns hastily back to Leevy. They make their way to the edible plants station, and he goes out of his way not to look at the dark haired beauty for the rest of the day.

_nine_

Her lovely face flashes on the screen, unsmiling and deadly; _Katniss Everdeen_, a green haired commentator trills. Peeta whispers it to himself and it sounds strange on his tongue, foreign and earthy and so, so dangerous. An 11 flashes over her face, obscuring her gray eyes. Beside him, Haymitch swears.

He hears Leevy crying that night in the room across from his, but he feels strangely numb. After several sleepless hours of tossing and turning he climbs to the roof, unable to stop wondering exactly what Katniss Everdeen did to earn that 11.

_eight_

The cameras must've picked up on his awe during her interview, although it was really nothing spectacular, because the moment he and Caesar stop bantering about showers he's asked about a girl back home. When he shakes his head in sheepish denial Caesar smiles slyly, blue lips curling up to reveal blinding white teeth.

"And what about here? Have you seen anything you like?"

Peeta winks at the audience, playing up the charismatic angle he and Haymitch decided naturally fit him so well, and allows his gaze to wander over the dark haired goddess who interviewed third. He grins at her and to his surprise her entire face spasms; she ducks her head down and he smiles back up at his interviewer.

"It's definitely a change of pace from Twelve, Caesar." The crowd roars its approval and the screens around him fill up with her pretty flushed face. He sees Haymitch in the crowd rolling his eyes, chuckling his approval. He's done it, accomplished what his mentor pushed so hard for — he's done something to bring a little attention his way, make him more than just a boy from Twelve. He leaves the stage to thunderous applause and shrill whistles, unable to ignore the glares from almost every single other tribute back stage.

Katniss arrives back at the Training Center the same time he does, slipping into the elevator with him and Leevy. When the small girl from Eleven tries to slip in with them Katniss shakes her head menacingly, pressing the button for the second floor before anyone else can come on.

His partner backs into the corner nervously, and he can't help but let out a gulp of his own. Katniss's gray eyes meet his, burning with something he doesn't recognize. She steps close enough for him to smell her sweat, see the glimmering powder that dusts her dark skin catch the harsh fluorescent light.

"I will kill you," she promises, voice soft and dangerous. And even though he's terrified, he just shrugs.

"Someone has to," he says blithely.

It's the first time he's ever seen her look ruffled.

_seven_

He and Leevy never discussed an alliance but when he sees her crumple to the ground minutes after the Game begin something in his chest sinks, something heavy like death and the realization that he's never going home, not really. The hulking boy from Two towers over her form, his fingers flexing. He sees Katniss, too, holding onto a bow for dear life. Their eyes meet and she notches an arrow, pointing her weapon towards him. He takes off at a dead run, hoisting the backpack he managed to grab high on his back and heading for the patch of forest closest to him. He hears the arrow whistle past his head and when he turns back around for a final glimpse, she's still staring after him, her face blank. She never missed in practice.

_She let him go_, he realizes. That night, when eight pictures flash across the sky, he wishes she hadn't.

_six_

They meet five days, ten booms of the canon, and three near death experiences later. She practically stumbles across him, lying prostrate near a stream. He's well camouflaged, blending in to the cool mud close to the water.

"Here to finish me off, Sweetheart?" Peeta relishes the way she jumps, the bottle she's holding falling from her hands and clattering on the rocks beside his face. When she bends down to pick it up his blue eyes blink open and she falls backwards, letting out a loud shriek and scuttling away. He can't help but laugh, wincing at the movement.

After she recovers from her shock she moves back over, taking in his disguise. "_This_ is how you got an eight," she mutters, prodding the damp moss covering his chest. Peeta laughs again; it turns into a groan quickly.

"What's wrong?" she asks curiously. There isn't a trace of concern in her voice, which is strangely reassuring.

"I seem to be injured," he shrugs. She pokes him again and he hisses. "There was a fire—"

Katniss snorts. "You and fire, huh?" She seems taken aback when he smiles widely.

"There does seem to be a theme." He reaches out a hand and pulls her closer, dropping his voice and smiling again when her eyes dart down to his lips. "We're supposed to be enemies, so feel free to kill me at any time."

God help him, she actually laughs. "Don't think I won't," she warns, but there is something teasing in her otherwise serious face. He winces when she tugs him upwards into a sitting position, urging him to crawl towards the stream.

"Where are your friends?" he asks, trying not to smile at the way she is obviously put off by his conversational tone.

Katniss rolls her eyes at his question, scoffing as if he is an idiot. Which really, isn't too far from the mark. "There aren't friends in the arena, Twelve."

"It's Peeta."

"_Whatever_." She hesitates for the first time, taking the time to fill her bottle with water before she answers him. Once she's dropped the iodine in, she speaks. "My district partner and I don't exactly get along," she admits finally. "He's—"

"Crazy?"

"Fucking psychotic," she finishes darkly. "My chances are much better away from him." She scowls at the way he eases his feet into the water. "How's that going to help? You need to take off your pants and clean your wounds." He raises an eyebrow at her and she huffs.

He moves to take them off, grunting in pain as the fabric sticks to his legs. "Easier said than done." She pulls out a small dagger and he can't help but flinch. "Making good on your promise already?"

"You should be so lucky," she retorts, sliding the blade into the fabric and cutting away at the offending portions. Once she's done she helps him pull them off, flushing a pretty scarlet and tossing them aside. He watches her curiously as she splashes water on his burns. She gags at the sight of his injuries, and he can't help but wonder why she's helping him. When he asks she just glares down at the water cupped in her hands.

"I'm using my resources," she mutters quietly. Seconds later a small metal tin floats down from the sky, and she grins at him triumphantly. "Looks like that drunk mentor of yours might actually be good for something."

Peeta barks out a laugh at Haymitch's expense. He's not dumb enough to miss the fact that his first sponsor gift didn't appear until Katniss found him. He doesn't tell her this, though. "He's useful enough when he wants to be."

Her hands are surprisingly gentle as she applies the cream to his burns, ignoring his choked sounds of relief.

They find shelter in a nearby cave; when she eyes his sleeping bag longingly he offers it to her.

"You're ridiculous," she says scornfully. That night, though, she slips in with him, hours after the moon has risen and the cave is almost completely black. He can feel her shivering, his arms instinctively wrapping around her.

"You should've just killed me in the blood bath." He says it quietly, hoping the cameras are trained somewhere else. There's little hope of that, though, considering the rather absurd alliance they seem to have struck up. She's quiet for a long time, and he thinks maybe she didn't hear him.

"I know," she whispers finally.

"Why didn't you?"

She doesn't answer.

_five_

It is raining when they wake; it's strange to feel her pressed against him so tightly. He shifts and her eyes blink open at the movement. It takes her only a second to realize where she is and she scrambles out, her skin pink and her eyes averted from his. Peeta laughs and she scowls so fiercely.

She stretches lithely and he eyes the movement appreciatively. When she catches his gaze her flush deepens. "You know, you're awfully pure for someone who keeps threatening to kill me," he remarks.

Katniss glares. "You're awfully cocky for someone I keep threatening to kill."

Peeta shrugs, sitting up and twisting his shoulders until they pop loudly. "You could do it, you know. Just go ahead and get it over with."

She frowns, sitting cross legged and leaning back against one of the hard rocks enclosing them in. "Stop saying things like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you want to die," she snaps.

He shrugs again, crawling out of the sleeping bag and moving to sit beside her. She flinches when their knees touch and he smiles at her, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace. "Maybe I do," he says offhandedly, after a long moment of silence has stretched between them. She looks puzzled and he adds, "Want to die."

Katniss scowls again. He wonders if he will ever see her smile. "Yes, you obviously have such a death wish, making it to the final six and all."

Peeta grins. "Spending time in a small, enclosed space with a girl who promised to kill me before the Games even began…" Her stern expression doesn't break and he sighs. "I have no clue how I made it this far," he confesses. "No one back home thought I would, Haymitch didn't even think—"

Her eyes blaze. "Why not? You're strong and handsome, you scored an eight, the whole stupid crowd loved you."

"I'm a baker," he scoffs. "I have no real skills, no real reason to win."

"What about your family?"

"We said our goodbyes," he says shortly. She still looks confused and he sighs again, looking around the cave shiftily. "I don't want to end up like Haymitch. I don't want to go home and have people know that I — I don't want to _remember_, any of this, the things I've done, the things I've seen."

Her hands fiddle with the ragged hem of her shirt. "How many?" she asks, voice empty of emotions.

"Two." And his hands still feel dirty, even now. She nods, and he can't help but wonder. "You?"

She lets out a soft breath, a sad kind of smile on her face as she looks up at him. "I don't remember," she says simply.

He smiles back.

_four_

They wake up tangled together again the next morning. The rain has stopped and it's eerily quiet; the only sounds he hears are in his head, memories of her soft words about her sister and parents back home. She hums as they splash through the stream and her voice is pure and lovely, something he wants to remember always. However long that may be.

They leave their cave for the first time in two days, stumbling out and blinking in the sunlight. Her bow is at the ready, held determinedly away from him. They've separated for a bit, Katniss scouting for game as he picks berries, when the canon booms for the first time in three days, so close there is little doubt in his mind who it was for. His stomach sinks, a few of the berries he's gathered falling from his hands.

He hears running, soft footfalls crunching over fallen leaves, the snapping of branches as someone carelessly makes their way to him through the woods. He braces himself.

Katniss bursts into the clearing where he waits, her chest heaving and gray eyes wide. Her bow is pointed at him menacingly but as soon as his presence registers she drops it, rushing over to him and hugging him tightly. Stunned, his arms wrap back around her, noticing just how hard she shakes. It is nothing like sharing a sleeping bag.

"Dammit, Twelve," she whispers harshly. He smiles shakily into her hair.

"It's Peeta," he reminds her.

Despite his reassurances she checks him over, slapping the berries he's gathered out of his hands.  
"It's nightlock," she cries, punching him hard on the arm. "You'd be dead in a minute!"

Somewhere, farther off, a canon booms again. They spring apart as if remembering where they are.

"Final four," Peeta says softly. "You should do it now. Get it over with."

Her bottom lip trembles. "Peeta—"

He walks away from her and picks up her bow. She rears back in shock but he shakes his head, shoving it in her hands. "Do it," he instructs.

Katniss lets out a shuddering sound, gray eyes clouding over; she loads the bow and aims. They stand that way for an eternity. And then she backs away. "I can't," she says bleakly. "I can't do it." Before he can even say anything she is darting away.

"You promised," he yells after her. "_You promised!_"

Night falls but he doesn't sleep. He wanders around, making as much noise as he possibly can and waiting for death to come. The canons boom in succession, two hollow rings. And now it is him and someone else. He is so impossibly ready to die.

He staggers out of the forest sometime around daybreak, the world around him lit up a soft pinkish orange. His favorite color. When he sees her crouching by the lake, her back to him, he wishes he had asked what hers was. She must hear him coming a long way off but she doesn't stand until he is almost on her. She looks like she's been crying.

An animal howls deep in the forest, and they startle. And then she's in his arms again, and it's more than he could have hoped for and everything he never wanted and she lets him kiss her even though she shouldn't. "I don't want to remember either," she whispers, resting her forehead against his. The howling is closer now, a cacophony of threats heading their way.

"It won't be so bad," he promises. "Not for you."

Katniss reaches hands that are stained red into her pockets, pressing her trembling hand into his. When she pulls away, all that's left is a handful of berries. When he looks up, she is holding some for herself. He looks at her, horrified, and she just shrugs. _I don't want to remember, either._

He wonders if they could've been friends, lovers, anything other than two dead kids in another lifetime. He thinks about saying something, saying _anything_; instead he holds them to his lips.

"Count from three?" she asks. He notices the way she swallows nervously as he holds the nightlock near his mouth. When her free hand finds his, he squeezes tightly.

"Sure," he agrees. And really, if he only has three seconds left, he's glad they're with her.

_three_

_two_

_one_

She's thankful he closed his eyes as soon as he put the fruit in his mouth; she couldn't bear to see the look in his lovely blue eyes when the berries fall from her fingers. He's dead before they even hit the ground, all of his weight slumping down. The air around her fills with cheers streaming live from the Capitol and she pumps her fist victoriously, even as she holds Peeta's still warm hand in her own.

She keeps her promises. Always.

. . .

. . .

_As always you can find me on tumblr: swishywillow._


End file.
